Stronger than Imprinting
by Permanent Rose
Summary: If there is one thing Embry hates, it's happy couples. Seriously, if just one more pack member imprints or falls in love, he just might explode. But what if Embry's the next one on Cupid's list? EmbryXOC
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I' ve decided to separate this from my Jacob story because I won't be finishing it in a while. I do plan to return to it when my life is less hectic. Thanks for bearing with me.

To new readers, this is a companion story to another story I wrote called **Loving Jacob Black**. It is not essential to read that one before reading this, but there are a few things that I use from that story. One, Emily is pregnant, which is cleary explained in chapter one, and two, Jacob and Leah are a couple. I hope that clears everything up.

Title: Carpe Diem

Summary: Embry's the only one out of the 'older' wolves who hasn't fallen in love. He sick of all the mushiness and gooeyness going around and he is most certainly NOT jealous. But when Caela Segan, a eccentric and headstrong girl, moves to La Push, Embry is in for a lot more than he expected.

_Chapter I_

**Embry's POV:**

I lay sprawled across the couch in Sam and Emily's living room, two empty potato chip bags crumpled on my chest, and the remote control in my hand. There was nothing good on, but watching sappy soap operas was better than doing nothing.

"Embry."

I turned to see Emily enter the room. Her large, swollen belly jutted out in front of her. She sighed heavily as she sat down on the chair opposite the couch.

"God, I can't wait to get this thing out me," Emily panted, fanning her herself with her hand.

Though it was only early April, Emily was already complaining about the heat.

"Embry, why are you in my living room?" she finally asked.

"I dunno," I shrugged. "You have a better TV.

Emily sighed. "I know your upset about everyone going to Fun Forest," she said, referring to one of the best amusement parks in Seattle. "You know you could've gone, too."

Yes, technically I could've, but I didn't want to spend my day watching everyone hold hands and make out (With the exception of Quil, who would be spending the day with Claire in Kiddie Land)

Emily seemed to read my mind. "Seth, Collin, and Brady don't have 'dates'," she said, using the world lightly. 'Dates' could hardly begin to describe the term 'imprint'.

I only rolled my eyes. Yes. I'd just _love _to spend my day with the 'little' kids.

"And what about Sam?" Emily stated. "He went even though I couldn't go with him. I'm sure he wouldn't have minded your company."

"Emily," I said, a sarcastic tone in my voice, "do you honestly think I'd want to spend the day with Sam? You're the only one who can put up with him, and that's because you have to."

She laughed. "I just can't win with you, can I?"

"Nope. Just look up stubborn in the dictionary and you'll find my picture," I joked.

"Are you too stubborn to give me hand—or are you too busy watching…that." She turned to face the television, which was now in the middle showing a sex scene. I already got enough of that from the packs' mind (and much more graphic than this).

"I think I can pull myself away," I told her, switching off the TV. "What do you need help with?"

"Sam keeps telling me he's going to set up the crib in the baby's room, but he hasn't gotten around to it. And frankly, he's running out of time. The baby's due in less than a month," Emily sighed.

"Sure," I shrugged. How hard could assembling a crib be?

Emily led me up the steps and walked into to what used to be a guest room. The walls were painted a pale cream colour (they didn't know if they were having a boy or girl yet) with a classic Winnie the Pooh border lining the walls. In the middle of the room sat a huge box with an illustration of a crib.

I was able to tear the box open easily, but once I had it opened, I realized how many nuts, bolts, and screws there were. I searched for the directions.

"Here they are," said Emily, bending over as far her stomach would let her and pointing to a packet of papers.

"Thanks," I said, reaching for them.

I began to read, but didn't get very far. They were written in French.

"Emily, unless you can read French, I don't think we're getting anything done," I said, handing her the instructions.

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the paper. "I took Spanish," she finally stated. "There has to be some English instructions."

I dug through the whole box, taking out every single piece. We couldn't find any.

"Emily, where did you buy this crib?" I asked.

Emily blushed as she answered. "Online. EBay. It was cheap."

"Well that explains it…" I trailed off. "Know anyone who speaks French?"

"Leah might have taken it in high school," mused Emily, "but that doesn't help us considering she's at Fun Forest with Jacob."

"Well, I guess we're gonna have to figure it out on our own," I said.

So we did. And it took about three hours, a batch of Emily's homemade cookies, and a lot of lame jokes and remarks (on my part) for encouragement.

"I think it will stay," I stated, giving it a good shake.

"It'd better stay," Emily warned. "We can't have it collapsing with the baby in it."

We headed back downstairs just as the pack returned from the amusement park.

"Man, I'm starving!" shouted Quil, holding Claire on his hip. "What for dinner, Em?"

"Crap!" Emily exclaimed. "Is it really that late? I'll order pizza…"

"Get pepperoni!" Paul demanded.

"Sausage!" suggested Jared.

"Get one with _everything_!" exclaimed Quil.

"I want pwain, Kwil," said Claire, throwing her arms around Quil's neck. Quil simply beamed.

"We get plain, Claire," Quil promised fervently.

"All right, all right," laughed Emily. "I'll got order the whole restaurant…"

"So how was it?" I asked, looking around the room at the people who had become closer to me than my family.

Jacob stood in the far corner absentmindedly stroking Leah's hair. Beside them stood Paul with his arm wrapped loosely around Rachael's waist. Tiny Kim was by far the smallest person (not including Claire) in the room by at least a foot. She leaned against Jared's broad form, her head barely reaching his chest. Quil held Claire like a proud father, beaming at every word she said. Sam stood near Emily, anxiously waiting for her to get off the phone. Seth, Brady, and Collin stood apart from the couples, talking among themselves.

"It was a blast," said Jared. "You should've come, man."

I only shrugged.

"It was a bwast!" mimicked Claire, making everyone laugh.

The pizza came about twenty minutes later (seven boxes), which we all quickly devoured. After dinner, we all headed into the living room. Everyone subconsciously broke off into their couples and groups, making me feel uncomfortable. The pack had always been like the family I never really had; never had I felt out of place.

"I'm tired," I stated, heading for the door. "I'm going home. Bye guys."

And before anyone could protest, I was out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Much thanks to Jenna for helping me with this chapter.

_Chapter II_

**Caela's POV:**

I was not afraid. Or at least I was not going to admit I was. I sat on the edge of the plane seat, staring at the endless stretch of land, flying further and further away from my home in California. Alone.

But I had always been a loner. There were no friends back at home whom I valued enough (or who valued me) waiting for me to call as soon as I arrived at the airport in Seattle. Only Mama would call, and she was the one who exiled me to this place, the one who had sent me to live on that damn reservation with my aunt and uncle, whom I had never even met.

Mama was sick. The doctors had found the tumor in her right breast only a few months ago, but by then it was already dangerously far along. She was too ill to even come home. But Mama would fight. Like me, she was headstrong and stubborn. She wouldn't let the cancer win.

"Mama, I can live by myself," I had practically begged. "I can cook and do the wash and manage perfectly for myself. I promise."

"Caela, darling," she had said, trying to force a smile. "You are only seventeen. Until I get better, I'd rather you have someone to take care of you instead you being all alone."

I told her fine, I was glad to leave and that I hated her. I was hurt that she would so readily give me up, send me to a strange place without even considering how I had felt. Mama was sick and I wanted to be there for her, but all she could think of was whisking me away. Mama had been my only true friend and California was my home.

I was afraid.

* * *

I woke up with a jolt. I didn't know how long I had been sleeping.

"Honey, the plane is going to be landing very soon," said a young flight attendant, speaking to me as though I were only five-years-old.

I rolled my eyes. The only person who could get away with calling me pet names was my mother.

I bit back a snide remark and handed her my empty Coke can. She shot me a sickly sweet smile. "I hope you enjoy your trip to Seattle, sweetie!"

_Oh, you bet I will._ I forced a smile. As soon as she turned he back, I pretended to gag.

The plane landed ten minutes later. I grabbed my carry on, a woven draw strong bag I had made when I was ten, and began to search for signs that would lead me to baggage claim.

The airport was easy to navigate; it was much smaller than San Francisco's. I quickly found my bright pink suitcase. I had taken a small amount of luggage with me. Most of my possessions remained in California, including my beloved oil paints and other art supplies. Just thinking about not being able to paint for the next few weeks caused a painful ache to go through my body.

"It's only temporary," I whispered to myself through gritted teeth.

Soon I would be back home with Mama and life would return to normal. My time here would pass quickly; in a few weeks, it wouldn't even matter.

The heels of my red cowboy boots clicked against the tiled floor as I scanned the area for a person or persons unknown to me. Slowly, the crowed thinned, and I spotted a small woman waving animatedly at me. I had expected her to have Native American features, considering she was from the La Push Reservation, but instead she was quite pale with straw coloured hair that fell just past her ears. My father's sister. I now remembered my mother telling me that she had only moved from California to the Reservation because her husband was a native.

Once I made eye contact with her, she raced toward me. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, and choked back a sarcastic remark.

"You must be Caela!" The petite woman embraced me enthusiastically upon reaching me. "You look so much like your father!"

Exactly the thing I wanted to hear. It thrilled me that I looked the bastard who had left my mother a month before I was born. Nonetheless, I smiled sweetly. "Hi, Aunt Erin."

The words sounded strange coming from my mouth, almost too endearing for this women I barely even knew.

Apparently 'Aunt Erin' felt the same way. "Oh please just call me Erin."

As we walked outside into the weak sunlight of Seattle, the gravity of the situation had finally set in. I was banished to this godforsaken land of rain until further notice.

"So, how's your mother doing?" Erin asked me by way of breaking the ice.

I scowled. First the comment about my father, now this? Did she want me to hate her?

The topic of my mother was not my favorite subject, and it was especially not what I wanted to talk about now. "Fine. Hanging in there." I responded with a shrug.

I think she sensed the fragility of the subject, because she dropped it, and instead lifted my pink rolling suitcase from my hands, placing it in the trunk of a cute little blue Toyota Corolla.

"Nice car," I mumbled. I knew nothing about cars. But I suddenly felt bad about being so sharp with her. After all, I was stuck here until further notice. And she was nice enough to take me in.

Erin smiled at me again; I was beginning to think I might not hate her so much after all. "A car is just something to drive. I like that its blue."

I laughed for the first time all morning. "Yeah, blue is good. I'm a fan of pink though."

"A pink car." She mused. "That'd be something worth seeing."

"Elvis drove a pink car."

"Elvis who?" she asked me as we climbed inside.

Oh boy. Maybe this was going to be harder than I thought. "Elvis Presley." I said, no longer able to avoid rolling my eyes. "You know, the king of rock and roll?"

Erin smiled sheepishly. "If you tell your uncle Cliff I forgot who Elvis was, I'll be in heaps of trouble."

"I suppose we could keep this slip up just between the girls?" I couldn't help but to smile. I decided Erin was impossible to hate.

She winked at me, and turned her attention back to the road. "I appreciate that."

I sank deeper into the leather seat, as we headed closer towards the looming black clouds ahead. Erin babbled on about life in La Push, how glad she was to have me, and other things I didn't catch. Her enthusiasm was getting to be a bit annoying. I supposed I could be thankful I didn't have to spend the next few months with a crabby bitch who hated children. My eyelids threatened to droop as the car ride progressed.

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm talking so much, sweetie," she sighed, and let out a breath, as though contemplating what to say next. "You see, Cliff and I have never been able to have children of our own. Even since your mom called a few weeks ago, I've been so excited to have you. Please forgive me if I'm a bit…over enthusiastic. "

That was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever said to me. My breath caught in my chest and tears threatened to fill my eyes. But I wouldn't let myself cry. Caela Segan never cried.

"Thanks, Erin," I mumbled. "And you've been fine. It's nice that I get to stay with someone who cares so much."

She smiled at me, but was silent after that, and I soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Caela, honey, we're here…" Erin gently shook me awake.

I rubbed my eyes and squinted as I focused in on my surroundings. We were parked in front a modest looking home that looked neither old nor new. As I stepped out of the car, I noticed the faint smell of salt and brine. It reminded me of California. I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Erin got my suitcase and I followed her into the house. We were greeted by the tallest man I had ever seen, and this was saying a lot considering that I was almost 5' 10''. His arms and face were deeply tanned and his lips were pulled into what looked like a permanent grimace. _He _definitely looked Native American. I could almost picture him wearing traditional Native American garb and being placed into the Pocahontas movie to play Chief Powhatan. He would suit the role nicely.

"Hello," I mumbled cautiously, trying my best not to be rude (for once in my life, it actually seemed necessary. This man looked like he could easily pound me to a pulp)

He only nodded in return.

Erin motioned for me to follow her up the steps. Once we had reached the landing, she whispered. "Sorry about Cliff. He's not the talkative type. He'll warm up to you eventually."

I forced a smile, unable to think of a civil response. She led me down the hall to a small bedroom. The walls were painted baby blue, except for a line going around the middle of the room, where it appeared as though someone had crudely torn a border off.

"Sorry its not fixed up more," Erin apologized, an unreadable expression on her face.

"It's fine," I stated, not daring to ask any further questions.

"Well, I'll leave you alone until dinner," Erin said, heading for the door. "Is there anything I can get you to make you more comfortable?"

"Only my paints," I blurted before I could stop myself. "But I know that's impossible."

She left me after that and I took the time to examine my new room. It wasn't much. It contained a small bed, dresser, and desk. I dragged my suitcase over to the dresser and quickly unpacked my few possessions. When I had finished, I collapsed on the bed.

A corner of colour poking out from behind the headboard caught my eye. Curious, I peaked behind it to see what it was. It was a remnant of the torn border. An ABCs border, one that would only be found in a baby's room.

Suddenly I understood. Erin's pained expression. Her silence when she had entered the bedroom. Her words from the car ride echoed in my head, "Cliff and I have never been able to have children of our own…"

_Well, they must've come damn close, _I thought, fingering the picture of kitten that lay sleeping in the letter _C. _

A sudden pain filled my chest, and I realized that I was not the only one hurting. And then I could control myself no longer. I buried my face in the pillow and began to cry.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: So I got a lot more reviews for this than I thought I would, which inspired me to update :)_

**Embry's POV:**

"I don't see why we have to go to school anyway," grumbled Paul as we walked down the street toward the reservation high school. Almost everything on the reservation was within walking distance.

"Tell me about it," agreed Jacob, kicking an empty soda can across the street. It scraped against the pavement and landed on top of the sewer grate. Jacob hated school even more that he had before he started dating Leah. She had graduated a year earlier, leaving Jacob to suffer alone.

Quil felt the same way as well. He was worse than any mother I knew. He ran across the street and kicked the can back to Jacob. "Seriously, it's not like you need a degree to be a werewolf."

We laughed at his remark, but inside, we all really knew how binding our lives had become.

I was the only one who didn't mind going to school, not that I liked it or anything. It was better than watching everyone make out (or play "mommy," in Quil's case). God, I really didn't have a life.

We arrived at school only moments later and proceeded to our usual hang out spot by the decaying picnic benches by the side of the school.

"What's _she_ doing there?" Paul griped, pointing an accusing finger at a girl I had never seen before, sitting contently on one of benches, reading a book.

We all glanced at each other. Barely anyone ever bothered to get in our way—especially with Paul around. We were too big, too roudy, and just too—different, that people tended to shy away.

"Cut her a break," I told Paul, having no idea why I suddenly felt the need to stand up for this girl. "I think she's new."

"Do you think I give a damn?"

When Paul was mad, there was no use trying to calm him down, even if it were for an entirely illogical reason. Before I could respond to his remark, he stomped over to the girl.

I hurried to follow, ready to interfere if he decided to do anything rash.

He stopped abruptly in front of the bench, coughing loudly. She didn't look up. I could hear the rest of the pack sniggering quietly a few feet behind us. It amused them greatly to see Paul make a fool of himself.

"Excuse me," he seethed. I could almost feel the anger radiating off of him.

This time, the girl looked up, but not with the flustered, timid look I was expecting to see on her face. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and glared, making the array of freckles that dotted her nose stand out sharply. I took the chance to properly look at her face. She was beautiful, easily one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen. Her facial features were sharp and angular but in a pleasant way that suited her nicely. Her skin was lightly tanned, nothing compared to the copper skin tone of the natives on the reservation, but it was still obvious she had been exposed to a fair amount of sunlight. Her hair fell down her back in tight sand colored curls. As I took in her features, I realized there was something different about her beauty. She didn't wear any makeup, and she certainly didn't need to.

"Do you mind?" she snapped at Paul, significantly eyeing the book she was reading.

Curious, I lowered my gaze to see the book's title. It was _The Aeneid, _the original Latin text edition. So she was smart as well as beautiful. I suddenly felt bad that she had gotten stuck in our reservation high school. Latin wasn't even offered here.

For the first time since…well, ever, Paul didn't quite know what to say. He was used to getting his way. He began to sputter an incoherent stream of words, which only earned him more snickers from the pack and a contented smile from the girl.

A moment later, the bell rang. The girl picked up her bag (a large canvas tote with an intricate rose painted on it—I couldn't help to wonder if she had done it herself) and walked away with her head held high, as though nothing had happened.

"Wait!" I called after her, hurrying to catch up. I suddenly felt the need to apologize for Paul's actions.

As I approached her, I noticed how tall she was, which was saying a lot coming from me. She turned abruptly, shooting me a biting glare. For the first time, I noticed what she was wearing. Despite the damp, cold weather, she wore a pair of cut off jean shorts and a bright green tank top covered by a short jean jacket. But those weren't even worth looking at once you saw her shoes. She wore a pair of red leather cowboy boots. It wasn't a look that many people could pull off, but let me tell you, she could.

"Yes?" She tapped the heal of her boot impatiently, waiting for me to answer.

"Um…well…I just…"

"I haven't got all day," she snapped.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for the way Paul acted," I sputtered. Once I had said the words, I realized how stupid I sounded.

"You mean the asshole back there?" She pointed to Paul, who standing a few feet behind us, laughing with the rest of the pack. Apparently, he had already forgotten his anger.

"That would be the one." I grinned. I was beginning to like this girl more and more.

"Don't worry about it," she assured me. "He didn't bother me. I've experienced much worse."

I raised my eyebrows. Either she tended to get mixed up with the wrong sort of people or she had the tolerance of a saint, because I knew first hand that dealing with Paul was no walk in the park.

She began to walk briskly down the hallway once again.

"Wait!" I panted as I caught up with her again.

"What do you want now?" She was clearly irritated now.

I grinned sheepishly. "You're new here, right?"

She rolled her eyes pointedly. "Are you trying to be annoying? Because if you are, you've succeeded."

That should've been my cue to shut up and leave her alone, but I figured I couldn't make the situation worse than it already was. "So where are you from?"

She didn't even bother to look at me. "Why do you care?"

I shrugged. I could tell she was very irritated, but there was a part of her that was enjoying the attention as well.

"California."

So that explained her sun kissed look. "Awesome. I've always wanted to go there."

An awkward silence passed between us, and I knew she was going to run off again if I didn't say something.

"So I'm Embry. Sorry I didn't introduce myself before."

Her grimace softened. "Interesting name…though I shouldn't be one to talk. I'm Kai-la."

Or at least that's what it sounded like she said. "I like it. How do you spell it?" I wondered curiously.

"C-A-E-L-A," she spelled for me. "Most people just think it's weird."

"I think its pretty," I assured her. It some how fit her. Unique, but pretty, just like her. "I've never heard it before."

"Thank you." She smiled genuinely, and I could tell she was warming up to me. "It's the nominative and accusative plural form of the word 'sky' in Latin."

"I'll just pretend like I understood that," I laughed, and she joined in, our bass and soprano voices mixing together.

"My mom's a bit of a classical nut. She's loves Roman and Greek mythology and can speak both languages fluently. In fact, she even had our house modeled after a classic Roman _villa_." Her breath caught slightly on the last word, and she got a look in her eyes like she was remembering something painful.

Before I could think of anything to say, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of first period. Damn it. We were late.

"Bye, Caela," I called as she hurried down the opposite end of the hall.

"Bye, Embry." She managed to smile slightly. "And thanks."

But before I could ask her exactly what she was thanking me for, she disappeared down the hallway, leaving me to wonder.

* * *

Lunch was always a grim ordeal. Our table consisted of Paul, Quil, Jacob, Jared, Kim, and myself. Paul, Quil, and Jacob usually passed the hour by complaining bitterly about how much they missed their true loves while shoving as much food in their faces as they could manage. Jared and Kim, on the other hand, typically spend the entire period sucking each other faces off, only surfacing for air to take an occasional bite of food.

That left me. I usually spent the entire period wondering why I had the will to live.

But today was different.

"Who are you looking for?" Paul asked me.

I was scanning the cafeteria intently for Caela, curious to see her again and knowing that she probably had no one to sit with.

"No one," I snapped irritably at Paul.

"It's that girl, isn't it?" sneered Paul.

Suddenly, I spotted her crossing the cafeteria to the far section with less crowded tables. I picked up my lunch tray so I could join her.

But Paul stopped me. "What? Are we not good enough for you anymore?"

I fought to control my anger. "I _was _going to ask her to come sit with us, but I don't think she'd like sitting with an asshole."

"Fine!" Paul bellowed, on the verge of making a scene. I could already see a few heads had turned in out direction. "Go sit with the little bitch."

I didn't bother to respond, knowing that the next thing I said could result in a full blown fight.

My anger faded considerably as I crossed the cafeteria to where Caela was sitting alone at the corner of an empty table, poking her fork at a tray of some unidentifiable substance. Her fraying copy of _The Aeneid _lay open beside her.

"Hey," I greeted, placing my tray down and sitting across from her.

She looked up, raising her eyebrows. "How'd I know you'd find me?" Though she said the words with contempt, I could tell she was somewhat glad to have made an acquaintance.

"Your friends don't look too happy that you left," she stated, glancing across the cafeteria.

I turned to follow her gaze. Paul was still firing his head off. "They'll get over it."

She smiled, continuing to push her food around her tray.

"So are you actually going to eat any of it?" I asked as I shoved a forkful of whatever was on my tray into my mouth. It tasted fine to me, but then again, I could probably convince myself that cardboard tasted good if I were hungry enough.

She shook her head. "I'm a vegetarian…and I think there's meat in this…whatever it is. They had a salad bar at my old school, so I was hoping they had one here."

"Sadly, its one meal for all here," I told her.

"I'll have to pack my lunch tomorrow," she stated, putting down her fork and pushing the tray away. "Do you want it?"

"Well, if you're not going to eat it, why not?" I grinned, finishing what was left on her tray and starting on hers.

"You really are a bottomless pit," she marveled, watching as the contents of her tray disappeared within seconds.

"So I've been told," I answered, stacking her tray onto of mine once I finished. "So…can I ask why you moved here?"

She clenched her teeth together, and I wished I could take back my words. She sighed heavily as she answered, "I'd rather not talk about it right now. Let's just say it's temporary for now. I'm staying with my aunt and uncle. Maybe you know them. Cliff and Erin Dietrich?

"Yeah, Mrs. Dietrich. She's the elementary school librarian, isn't she?"

"I believe so," Caela replied. "I don't really know her very well. We just sort of officially met a few days ago."

"She's a great lady." I though back to my elementary days. "Great with kids."

She turned to look at her open book, not quite sure what to say.

"So you like Latin?" I asked, glancing at the book.

"I love it," she told. "I was pretty pissed when I found out the don't offer it here."

"Yeah, this is probably one of the crappiest school's you'll find. So...could I see you book?"

She looked surprised, but nodded. I picked up the book and began to page through it. The foreign words had no meaning to me, but I pretended to be interested. It was obvious this was something that Caela valued greatly.

"So can you actually read this?" I marved, looking at the pages and pages of Latin text.

"Most of it," she told me proudly. "We were translating it in AP Latin at my old school."

"That's pretty awesome. Could you tell me what this says?" I handed her the book and pointed to a section.

"Let me see..."

The bell rang, making us both jump. I was surprised how quickly the period had gone by. Usually I found myself counting the minutes.

"You can tell me later," I promised her. "So what do you have next?"

She pulled out her schedule, skimming it. "American History."

"That's what I have! We can walk together." My enthusiasm was apparent.

She rolled her eyes. "If you insist…"

"I insist."

And even she couldn't help but to smile as we began to walk to class.

* * *

_A/N: So I have a question for you guys. If I were to tell you that I wanted 20 reviews before I updated next, would that make you more likely to review? Or would the bribery annoy you? _

_I'm just curious because I've seen a lot of people do this, and I was just wondering what you guys thought about it. _

_Thanks. I'll try to update again shortly :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I just want to thank everyone who has reviewed. You guys rock. _

_This chapter is dedicated to Jennalynne. I know this isn't the update you were expecting, but I hope it will do. (:_

* * *

_Chapter IV_

**Caela's POV:**

I'd done a lot of stupid things in my life; let me be the first to tell you. And today was no exception.

I had left my aunt and uncle's house that morning with my head held high and a permanent grimace plastered to my face.

"I hope today goes well, sweetie." Erin had embraced me tightly, fussing over me until I was out the door. "I'm sure you'll be able to find a friend," she added hopefully.

_Yeah, right. _I bit my tongue to prevent myself from saying the words out loud. I didn't even have the desire to make friends during my short stay here; it would only make it more difficult when it was time to go back home.

I had not anticipated Embry. He was like an overfriendly, endearing puppy that I wanted to hug and kick all at the same time. I had tried my best to push him away with my bitter attitude, but he did not take the hint. And as the day wore on, I found myself thinking of ways to catch his attention rather drive him away.

It was all very, very stupid.

So at the end of the day, as soon as the final bell rang, I left my last class as quickly as possible, not even bothering to stop at my locker. Because I knew that Embry would find me and insist we walk home together.

And it made me inordinately angry at myself that I wanted him to do just that.

It was starting to drizzle by the time I got home, causing my hair to frizz even more than usual. I slammed the front door as soon as I was in the house and threw my bag angrily onto the floor.

Yeah, I had slight anger management issues.

I dragged myself into the kitchen, fighting the urge to cry. I couldn't remember ever being such an emotional mess. I rummaged through the cabinet, searching for some junk to gorge myself on.

But all I found were organic granola bars, raisins, and an assortment of nuts.

So my aunt was a health nut.

I groaned, slamming the cabinet shut. I would do anything for a bag of greasy potato chips right now.

I picked up my bag from the floor and decided to head up to my room. I kicked the door open with the toe of my boot. I was just about to collapse on my bed when I realized there was an assortment of things spread out across it. I couldn't remember leaving anything on it.

So I took a closer look.

I was confused at first. A book of canvas paper, six tubes of acrylic paint, and three brushes rested on the pillows.

But they weren't mine. I had left all my art supplies in California.

I picked up the booklet of canvas paper and flipped through the pages. A piece of folded paper fell into my lap.

_I hope your first day when well. Maybe these can help cheer you up a little. I hope I bought the right supplies. I don't know much about art…_

_Erin_

I bit my lip, fighting back tears once again. Erin's kindness never ceased to catch me off guard_. _I picked up the tubes of paint she had picked out. The primary colors, cadmium red, ultramarine blue , opaque yellow, plus titanium white and mars black. I reached for the last tube. Permanent rose. I smiled.

I could imagine Erin picking out the colors. She had probably asked a clerk for assistance, if she really were as artistically challenged as she claimed to be.

"The primary colors—red, blue, and yellow—are essential," I could imagine the clerk telling her. "With them, you can make any other color."

She would've picked a shade of each, asking the clerk if these would be good.

"Perfect," the clerk would've told her. "Black and white are smart choices—to make other shades."

Titanium white and mars black would've been added to her pile. They would've been enough, but Erin would've continued to search the vast array of tubes. I could see her eyes fall on the tube of deep pink paint. Smiling, she would've added the tube to her pile.

The small tube of permanent rose paint made inordinately happy. It was a bright spot in bleak world.

I pushed the paints aside, deciding I would paint later tonight. I always painted better at night; my mother was forever calling me a night owl.

Mama.

I realized I had not spoken to her since the first day I had arrived. I shuffled around in my bag for my phone (pink and covered in decals and rhinestones) and dialed her number.

"Caela." Her voice was raspy and weak. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I continued. "I was just about to call. How was your first day?"

"How did you know it was my first day of school?" I couldn't remember telling her. I had been so angry with her that our last conversation had been stifled and brief.

"Erin told me."

Oh.

"It was fine," I stated simply.

"Did you meet anyone friendly?" she asked hopefully.

I hesitated. "No. Not yet, but it was only my first day," I added.

She didn't answer for a moment. Some background noises. "Caela, honey, the nurses are coming in to run a few tests. Can I call you back later?"

I hated thinking of her living in that wretched hospital. I bit my lip and nodded. "Sure, Mama. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, darling. I love you." I heard her phone snap shut.

"I love you, too," I whispered.

I feel back against the bed, staring at the ceiling. This room needed a serious make over. I though back to my room in California. The walls were all painted different colors, and one of them contained a mural I had painted a couple years prior. I was thinking about how nice it would be to do a ceiling design when I heard a soft knock on the door.

I jerked up, smoothing my hair and rubbing my eyes, hoping that it wasn't too obvious that I had been crying. "Who is it?"

"It's just me," Erin answered, pushing open the door. She hesitantly crossed the room to join me on the bed. "How was your first day?"

I shrugged. "Thanks so much for the paints, though. I really appreciate it. Permanent rose is my favorite color." I managed a smile.

"I thought you might like it." She returned the smile, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose.

"So did you make any friends?"

I sighed. Embry could hardly be considered a friend. "Not really."

"I'll take that as a yes," Erin grinned slyly. "Who is it?"

"You probably wouldn't know him…" I muttered, shifting my gaze away from hers.

"I'll bet I would," she answered. "I know pretty much everyone on the reservation, especially the kids. I've been teaching for ten years now. So who is _he_?"

I didn't miss how she stressed the word _he. _

I let out a huff, caving in, unable to fight the smile that crept onto my lips. "Tell me what you know about Embry Call."


End file.
